


Used To Be (The One I Loved)

by steverogerstrash (theyvegotthisspellonme)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2019, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:27:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyvegotthisspellonme/pseuds/steverogerstrash
Summary: James Barnes wants to remember his past. He does. But he's not sure if Steve Rogers will help him or only bring up memories that hurt.In which Bucky Barnes works to get his memories back with the help of some of some unexpected friends.





	Used To Be (The One I Loved)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_sergeant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_sergeant/gifts).



> this is my contribution for the cap reverse big bang, which is, in fact, my first bang. and it was so much fun, 10/10 recommend, will be participating next year
> 
> this fic (which is significantly longer than I thought it would be lol) would not exist without the veritable cheer squad I've had on my side since March, when this all got started (wow). so, thank you all - you know who you are - because we wouldn't be here today otherwise. 
> 
> I would also like to give a major shoutout to my artist, who is a wonderful human being that helped me through this process and made it the fantastic experience that this has been. check her out on [tumblr](http://winter-sergeant.tumblr.com) or [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_sergeant).
> 
> this fic is titled after the Jonas Brothers song of the same name, because I'm a ho for a good boyband and also nostalgia

The Asset stares down at the blond man, struggling to understand why he was worth saving, especially when the Asset had explicit orders to do the opposite. What was it about this target that was different than the rest of them? The Asset shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Behind him, the sound of the helicarriers falling into the river continues. He needs to get out of here, he knows. But he can’t make himself go until - there. The blond man starts to cough. Feeling something akin to relief - it has been many years since the Asset has felt something that can be described as truly _real_ \- he takes his leave, disappearing into the trees that line the river. He needs to hide. Needs to get out of here. The handlers are probably looking for him. The Asset approximates a deep breath, recognizing that this might be what people refer to as “panic”. He feels as if he’s felt this way before, but not in any situation that he can remember, so he pushes the thought aside and moves on. He knows of several HYDRA safe houses that haven’t been discussed in years, at least not in front of him. They might provide him a place to have a short rest before he really needs to get moving.

-✪-

Steve’s release from the hospital is blessedly unceremonious. Sam picks him up and takes him to an address that Natasha had texted Steve a few days ago. She hasn’t answered Steve’s calls in days, but it’s nice to know that she’s still looking out for him.

Seeing Fury again is… strange, but he’s glad to see that Natasha is okay, to whatever degree. Steve makes her promise to stay in touch, somehow, however she can, which makes her roll her eyes. She agrees anyway. Steve grins. It’s been a long time since he’s had friends the way he does now. He mentions as much to Sam and gets punched in the shoulder for his trouble. But he stands by it, won’t take it back. He knows he’ll need his friends if he’s going to make it through the file that Natasha gave him. He’ll need new friends to find the one that matters most.

“Barnes is more to you than you’re letting on.” Sam says later, when they’re safe again. It’s not a question. Steve looks up.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. And you should know that it’s okay. It’s not illegal to be in love anymore.”

“I… yeah. You’re… yeah.” Steve doesn’t know if he can say more, but Sam doesn’t look like he expects him to. All he does is nod, leaving Steve to what he was doing. Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. In all fairness, though, Steve hasn’t really known what to do with himself for a while. The last time he did, it was the 1940s. It was war. He had Bucky.

Bucky Barnes was always a guiding force in Steve’s life, for better or worse. He did his best to keep Steve out of trouble and succeeded sometimes, but was always right there with Steve when he didn’t. Now, Steve feels out of place without him. But knowing he’s out there, knowing he’s _alive_ gives Steve something to look for, at the very least. This is his chance to find Bucky, to help him. Hell, if nothing else, Steve can make sure that HYDRA never bothers him again.

-✪-

Barnes isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He’s been bouncing between safehouses in the area for days now, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that no one is coming for him. He saw in the newspaper that the Handler is dead, which makes him feel… something. Barnes still isn’t sure about this whole feelings thing. For so long, every emotion be felt had been suppressed, whether by his own survival instinct or by something that the scientists gave him so that he would focus on the mission and nothing else. There was always a mission.

But Barnes doesn’t have a mission now, at least nothing beyond survival. He hasn’t been assigned a mission since the last time he was in the Chair. But if no one is coming for him… something must be wrong. If there’s a bigger issue than their Asset being off the grid… Barnes thinks he might be smiling. It’s a strange feeling.

If that’s the case, Barnes thinks, then his plans need to change. If no one is looking for him, he can stay and watch the blonde man and figure out what makes him different than the others. Why the Asset couldn’t kill him. Why Barnes knows his face, or at least thinks he does. The face he sees is… different, somehow. Barnes can’t quite put a finger on it.

He finds himself wandering the National Mall sometimes, in the afternoons when it’s busy and sunny enough to warrant the baseball cap he found in one of the safehouses. The safehouses that, as more time passes, Barnes feels a stronger need to abandon. They’re inconvenient, for one thing, and too far removed from the rest of the city to provide enough escape routes for him to feel good about. He feels pretty good on the mall, though, despite the security in all the buildings. Barnes thinks that he used to like museums, maybe. Once upon a time. He’s starting to realize, slowly, that he was a person before HYDRA. He just doesn’t know when that was. Or who he used to be.

Barnes is lingering on the fringe of a tour group, half listening to the guide when he sees it. A large photo of the blonde man on the side of one of the museums. Before he realizes it, Barnes has broken off from the group - not that he was really part of it anyway - and starts towards the building. Museums have information, and that’s what he needs.

The building, which turns out to be the Air and Space Museum, has more information than Barnes anticipated. He’s making his way through the Captain America exhibit, because that’s who this guy is, Captain fucking _America_ , when he’s greeted by a face more familiar than Steve Rogers’. His own.

“Best friends since childhood…” Barnes tunes out the disembodied voice. Bucky Barnes. That’s what Rogers had called him. The exhibit says James, though, and that’s the name he remembers, even if he doesn’t have the memories that go with it. He stands there for a while, staring at the panel with his face on it. He’s lost track of how many times he’s read it before an announcement cuts through the voiceover he’s been ignoring. The announcement - that the museum is closing soon - breaks Barnes out of his thoughts. He shakes his head. This is why he knows Rogers. This is why Rogers knows _him_.

He doesn’t feel like James Barnes, though. He’s not even sure if James Barnes is still in his head. _How do I get him back?_ The thought makes him pause. _Do I want to get him back?_ Barnes isn’t even sure if he feels like a human, at this point, though he feels like he can get that back. Or like he can start working towards it.

Barnes adjusts his hat as he steps back into the sun. He needs to find somewhere to live if he’s gonna be staying in the area. But first he needs an identity. Which means he probably needs to talk to the Widow.

Which means he needs to find Rogers.

\---

Steve Rogers is a hard man to find, Barnes learns quickly. Even when Barnes makes a dedicated effort to follow him all day, Rogers still manages to disappear before Barnes can figure out where he lives. It goes like this for a while, until Barnes decides to follow Wilson instead.

Sam Wilson leads Barnes to Rogers’ place, right on the edge of the city. Barnes is kicking himself for not thinking of this sooner - of course Wilson would be easier to follow. Rogers is being watched by people who are definitely ex-SHIELD and maybe ex-HYDRA, though it’s hard to be sure. No one is watching where Wilson is going or who he’s talking to.

Barnes uses surveillance equipment he found in one of the safehouses to watch Rogers’ apartment. Three days later, Rogers leaves with something suspiciously shield-shaped, and Barnes makes his move. Best-case scenario, Rogers has left the Widow’s information somewhere easy to find. Barnes won’t think about a worst-case scenario. He’ll be in and out, and no one will ever know he was there.

He was not expecting the Widow herself.

Barnes had assumed that Rogers had some kind of security at his place, but a Red Room trained assassin seems like a lot, even for Captain America. Especially because it’s this particular Red Room trained assassin. But there she is, red hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail. Barnes thinks that her posture would be more intimidating if he didn’t remember teaching it to her.

“What are you looking for?” She demands.

“You.” Barnes admits. She raises her eyebrows. He’s going to have to do better.

“HYDRA isn’t coming for him. It’s down. I… jumped ship. They aren’t looking for him. They aren’t looking for _me._ But…” Barnes takes a deep breath. “I am. And I need him for that. Just not yet.”

“So you… what? Need a place in the area until you’re ready to talk to him? He’s off looking for you, you know. If you’re being honest with me right now, I’ll set something up. Eventually. When he’s got this itch under control. And once you can prove to me that you’ve shaken whatever bullshit that came with your time with HYDRA.”

Barnes nods.

“Thank you, Natalia.” She stiffens at the use of the name.

“They don’t call me that anymore.” She pauses. “I didn’t think you remembered.”

“Sometimes, I wish that I didn’t.” He wouldn’t be able to say it to anyone else, but Natalia understands. He knows that she does.

“Me too.” She whispers.

-✪-

Steve slumps back in his seat on the quinjet, letting disappointment wash over him. He knew going in that this would be a wild goose chase, knows that Natasha is doing her best to help. But Ukraine had been a bust and Steve is feeling it.

“Hey, man.” Sam says, turning to look at Steve over his shoulder. “Have you considered that he may not want to be found?”

“But I want to help him.”

“ _I_ know that. But he doesn’t. Maybe we should lay off.”

“I can’t, Sam. I just… can’t.”

“Because you love him.” There’s no question. Sam is very matter of fact about it. Steve’s head snaps up.

“We’ve had this conversation, man. I know you remember.”

“I know. It’s just... “ Steve takes a deep breath. “It’s feels strange, you know, to talk about it. For so long, we had to keep quiet. And for me, it wasn’t that long ago.”

“Yeah, well, for the rest of us, that’s some antiquated bullshit, man.” Sam pauses. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not right now. Another time.” It sounds like a promise because Steve means it as one. Sam nods.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

They’re quiet for a while, Sam poking at the controls of the quinjet, Steve trying to find footing in his own racing thoughts.

“Thanks, Sam.” He says eventually. Sam grins at him.

“Of course, man. That’s what friends are for.”

-✪-

The Widow - _Natalia_ , Barnes reminds himself - had given him a cell phone and told him to be in touch when he felt himself. That, though, was the problem, at least the way Barnes saw it. He didn’t know what feeling like himself _meant_. Barnes thinks that Natalia might have known that, though, and this was either a way to help him figure it out or get him out of her hair for a while. He’s not sure which.

Barnes doesn’t know what drives him to go back to Rogers’ apartment, but he can’t keep himself away. He watches from across the street for a few days and, when he’s fairly certain that Rogers isn’t there, he goes in through the living room window.

The apartment is… the best that Barnes can do it to compare it to some of the safehouses he’d been camping in. It’s bare and lifeless, devoid of color. Barnes is pretty sure that this is the opposite of any expectations he might have had, if he’d consciously had any. Something in the back of his head is whispering about color and paint, but he can’t figure out why, so he ignores it. The only signs that anyone lives there at all is the pair of shoes by the front door and a reasonably sized stack of file folders on the kitchen table.

Barnes ignores the shoes and makes a beeline for the files. Most of them turn out to be on HYDRA and SHIELD - all heavily redacted, of course, but Barnes might be able to fill in some blanks - but there’s one that stands out, for one because it’s in Russian. What really catches Barnes’ eye, however, is the photo that falls out of it. He’s pretty sure it’s a photo of him, of who he was before the Russians, before HYDRA.

The information inside is sparse, and mostly confirms some of the things Barnes has found out from the museum or the library. Some of it confirms the things that he can only find inside his own head. It’s comforting, in a way, because that means he didn’t make it up. It’s disturbing because that means it actually happened.

He takes photos of things he has more information on, which isn’t a whole lot, but he figures Rogers would appreciate it anyway, then puts the files back in their stack before moving deeper into the apartment. Rogers might have more information about who he used to be, who he _wants_ to be.

Most of the apartment is as bare as the living room. There’s a small office space, with a computer sitting on the desk that looks far too complicated for Barnes to even fathom using, though he’s figured out the phone from Natalia pretty well. There’s a full bookcase, stocked with history books. _Oh_ , Barnes thinks. _He had to catch up too_. He’d figured that SHIELD had helped Rogers with that, but maybe not. It seems that SHIELD hadn’t treated Rogers as well as they probably should have. For whatever reason, that makes Barnes angry. He moves on before he can think about it too much.

He stops short in the door to the bedroom. There, with his head pillowed on his arms - and not his actual pillows, _what the hell, Steve,_ Barnes freezes at the thought, why is this _familiar_ \- is Rogers. Immediately, Barnes takes a step back, instinctively hiding himself behind the door frame. But Rogers doesn’t move, and Barnes isn’t sure that he expected Rogers to, somewhere in the back of his mind are the words “deep sleeper”. So, slowly, Barnes makes his way into the room, watching Rogers as he goes. He stops next to the bed and just stands there, watching Rogers sleep. If the Widow found out about this, she’d want him to explain, to have a reason for being there. But he doesn’t, can’t even explain to himself why he stands there, staring at Rogers, and he can see, almost, the Steve that he thinks his brain wants to remember, the man that he lived with, the man that he knew on the bridge.

“If I can remember who he is,” Barnes mutters, so quiet that he can barely hear it, “why can’t I remember who I am?” He huffs out a frustrated breath. Rogers stirs. In a heartbeat, Barnes is back through the bedroom door. He looks back at Rogers one more time, then makes his way back through the apartment, then the window, to the place that Natalia set up for him.

Looking around, Barnes thinks that even his place, temporary as it may be, has more life than Rogers’ does. There are books that he’s checked out of the library, because he has an identity now, and he can do things like that. There’s the decorations and knick-knacks spread out around the room, too, though most of those came with the apartment. Or, he thinks, maybe Natalia put them there. It hits him that he might be a better-functioning person than Rogers, but he shakes his head to clear the thought. At this point, Barnes is barely a person. Rogers is doing better than that, surely. Some part of Barnes hopes that he is, at least.

\---

In the end, Natalia gets in touch with him.

“He needs you.”

She doesn’t need to say anything else.

-✪-

Steve wants to punch a hole in something. It’s… he’s been running around for _months_ now, looking for Bucky, and he has nothing to show for it other than endless frustration. Steve is _tired_.

Sam would say that it’s normal, that it’s good that Steve is recognizing these things, that he’s feeling them. And Steve knows he’s right, but _god_ , he’s pissed off about it. He’s considering going for a run or taking a shower or doing something, anything, to clear his head when someone knocks on the door.

“I’m not Sam, so don’t even think about telling me to fuck off.” Natasha calls. Steve almost smiles. It’s always good to see Natasha, whenever she can take a break from whatever the hell she’s been doing and not telling Steve about. But when he opens the door, it’s not Natasha standing on the other side.

It’s Bucky.

Steve freezes. He’s distantly aware that his mouth is probably open, that he’s blocking the entire doorway, but he can’t make himself move. He just stands there, staring.

Objectively, he thinks, Bucky looks pretty good. Like he’s been getting some amount of sleep, like he’s been eating regular meals. His hair is still long, longer than it had been on the bridge, and he hasn’t shaved recently. His eyes are still the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen. There’s something there, too, that wasn’t the last time they saw each other. Something more familiar.

“You gonna let me in?” Bucky asks. Steve nods. He steps to the side, then sticks his head out into the hall.

“She’s gone. The Widow.”  Bucky adds.

“I figured. Natasha… keeps to her own schedule.” Steve says. He’s not sure where he and Bucky stand, and he isn’t entirely sure that he wants to know.

“She said you’ve been… looking for me.” Bucky starts. “All over the place. Taking out HYDRA bases.”

“Yeah, Sam and I have… well, if we couldn’t find you, we wanted to make it harder for other people to.”

“Uh. Thanks.” The way Bucky says is makes it sound like a question. There’s a pause. “I remember you.”

Steve waits. Bucky looks like he wants to say something else, but he’s not sure how.

“I read all the files you had. About HYDRA. I have… more information. I can… fill in some blanks.”

“We’d appreciate the help, Buck.”

“Why… no one else calls me that. Bucky. Just you. I’ve been…” he pauses, like he’s considering his next words carefully. “Catching up.” He smiles a little, wry. Steve loves him so much.

“I was always the only one to call you Bucky.” Steve admits. He shrugs. “It was something that we brought with us, I guess. None of the other guys really got it.” When Steve looks, Bucky is nodding like Steve had confirmed something.

“And you… you used to be small.”

“Yeah. You were so mad when you found out that I let myself get experimented on. But here we are.” Steve shrugs again. Bucky doesn’t say anything.

“What else do you remember?” Steve asks after a moment.

“Not much.” Bucky admits. It’s clear he’s not happy about it. “I wanted… I wanted to remember on my own. Before I saw you. I wanted you to...” He trails off, shakes his head.. “But the Widow - Natalia, I mean - she said you needed me.”

“She was right.” Steve whispers. He sits down heavily on the couch. “It’s been real hard, looking for you out there.” He gestures vaguely towards the window, meaning the world. Steve puts his head in his hands, which is why he doesn’t see Bucky cross the room to sit down. He’s not next to Steve, per se, but he’s on the couch, which, if Steve were paying more attention, he’d be counting as a major win. As it stands, though, he’s just grateful that someone is here with him, and that that someone is not Sam.

“You don’t have to look anymore.” Bucky says. “I’m here, I’ll be around. Natalia set me up with a place in the city. You can even have my phone number.” When Steve looks up, Bucky is almost smiling. He still looks uncomfortable, but he’s also _teasing Steve_. It forces a laugh out of the blond.

“I’d take you up on that, Buck, but I can’t for the life of me figure out how to use one of those things. You got email?”

“Um. Maybe? I don’t know.” They lapse into silence, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“How much do you remember?” Steve asks, voice hardly above a whisper. Bucky takes a moment before he answers.

“Not as much as  I’d like.” He admits. “Bits and pieces. But I remember the war. Parts of it, at least. I… I remember the train.”

“Christ, Buck.” Steve feels the tears slide down his cheeks. “Of all the things… I wish you didn’t remember that.”

“Yeah, well.” Bucky shrugs. “Not much we can do about it, now, huh?” He’s trying to make a joke out of it, Steve can tell. He’s trying his best for Steve. Steve has never appreciated something more.  

“I should go.” Bucky says. He looks reluctant, but Steve can tell he means it. “Can’t stay in one place too long, you know? They might find you.” He’s joking again. Steve lets hims go anyway.

“Yeah, Buck. I’ll see you around. But before you go, could I get that phone number?”

Bucky smiles.

“You already have it.”

Steve wants to ask what he means, but he’s already gone, out the front door and down the hall. _Natasha was right,_ Steve thinks. _He’s a ghost. At least when he wants to be._

\---

Steve is considering throwing his phone off the balcony. Again. According to Bucky, the number he wants is in there, but Steve can’t find it. He doesn’t want to admit defeat, but the phone is giving him fits. He’s half considering asking Sam for help when the message comes in.

**From: Natasha**

**having trouble with the phone?**

**it’s natasha, by the way. before you get your hopes up.**

The next message, also from Natasha, outlines how to get into his messages and his contact list. It’s a paltry six names, but there isn’t really anyone he’d want to get in touch with outside of those Natasha has given him. At the top, surrounded by little hearts, is Bucky. Steve blushes, but he’s not sure he’d change it, even if he knew how.

**To: 💕Bucky 💕**

**How are you? -SGR**

**Natasha had to teach me how to use my phone. -SGR**

Steve tries not to read into the lack of response. He’s also still not sure how to text, what the protocol is. He might ask Sam.

**To: Birdbrain**

**Do you want to come over for dinner and a movie tonight? - SGR**

A few minutes pass before Sam answers.

**From: Birdbrain**

**sure dude.**

**nat finally teach you how to use your phone?**

**To: Birdbrain**

**Yes. There’s a bit of a learning curve. -SGR**

**Also, how do I change my contacts? Natasha entered them. -SGR**

**From: Birdbrain**

**i’ll show you when i get there**

**leaving now**

Sam laughs when he sees Bucky’s contact, but scowls when he scrolls down and sees his own.

“She’s so mean.” He mutters before taking Steve’s phone and changing it. Steve rolls his eyes. He’s fairly certain that Sam and Natasha are friends now, figures they’ve been through too much together not to be.

“What did you change it to? So I know. Also, how do I change them? For future reference.”

“If I tell you, do you swear not to change what I just put in here?” Sam asks. Steve nods. Sam hands him back his phone. Sam is listed as _THE falcon_ now, and Natasha’s messages are showing up under _itsy bitsy spider_. Steve laughs.

“Oh, I’ll definitely keep that. Until she finds out and kills both of us.”

Sam shrugs. “Worth it.”

Steve lets Sam choose the movie, and the takeout. Steve isn’t fussed over either one, just glad to have Sam around.

“What did you wanna talk about?” Sam asks. He’s halfway through his sesame chicken, movie playing quietly in the background.

“What?” Steve asks. He looks up from the box of rice he’d been eating out of.

“You don’t just ask people to come over, man. It’s okay,” Sam promises. “At least for now. But what is it?”

“Natasha… she brought Bucky here, earlier.” Steve admits.

“Yeah? How was that?” Sam is looking at his dinner, but it’s clear he’s focused on Steve.

“It was… weird. He looked good, I think. But… he wasn’t totally himself, you know? It… I could tell he was trying. And not just for me, which is good. I want him to do what’s right for him. But… god, Sam. I just… I love him so much, and I can’t tell him yet. I don’t want to get in the way of… whatever he needs to be doing.”

“That’s good. I know that’s hard. But that’s good. And if he came to see you, that means he’s in the area, right?”

“Yeah, he said he’s staying in the city. I have his phone number.” Steve laughs, but he’s pretty sure he just sounds hysterical. It’s been a long day.

“That’s great, man. Means we don’t have to go gallivanting across the globe.” Sam, thankfully, doesn’t mention the laughing. He’s a good friend. Steve is lucky to have him. “You wanna tell me about Barnes?”

“He’s the best thing that’s happened to me,” Steve starts. He glances up at Sam, then goes back to his lo mein. “One of the best things.” He amends. “He was always there for me, no matter what. Trying to keep me out of trouble, and when he couldn’t… he was right there with me. The rest of it… I’ve been in love with him since I knew what it meant. Probably before that. And the night before he shipped out… I told him.” Steve takes a deep breath.

“It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Figured, if he ended up hating me, I’d have a chance to get a new place before he came back. But he didn’t. Just kinda sighed and rolled his eyes. Kissed me before I could run away. And during the war, with the Commandos… well, they figured us out eventually. But they didn’t care. Said as long as we weren’t distracted when they needed us, they didn’t care what we did in our spare time. They were the best friends I’d ever had. Until now, of course.” Steve adds with a meaningful look at Sam. Sam punches him in the shoulder.

“Obviously.”

-✪-

Barnes is hiding. He’s not proud of it, but here he is. Locked in his apartment, windows closed, phone off. He’d texted Rogers back, that first day, but hasn’t since then. Part of him feels bad about it, but… Rogers complicates things. More so than Barnes thought he would. The memories are coming back faster now. Things that Barnes aren’t sure really happened, things from after the war. Things he doesn’t want to remember.

Most nights, Barnes wakes himself up, screaming. He hates the nightmares, hates them more than anything he’s come to know since striking off on his own. He’s not sure, though, that he would stop them coming, if he could. They ground him. Make him feel real. They make him feel like himself. Like James Barnes is coming back to the surface.

Part of him wants to reach out to Steve, or maybe Wilson, who Barnes knows works as a therapist at the VA. He can’t make himself do it, though. The two of them have already been through so much because of him, to help him. A tiny voice in the back of his head whispers something about friendship, but Barnes can’t bring himself to listen. So he stays in his apartment with the curtains drawn over closed windows and the lights off, and he remembers.

\---

Natalia sends the archer just when he’s starting to feel better. He wonders if she knows that.

He’s just gotten out of the shower when there’s a knock at the door. After a panicked moment trying to find pants, he opens the door to a sandy blond carrying a pizza.

“Clint Barton. Natasha sent me.”

“James Barnes. Um, come in, I guess.” Barton grins at him like James has hung the moon, and maybe some of the stars.

“You said Natalia sent you?”

“Yeah, she said you were probably overdue for some company.”

“She was right.” James sighs. “As much as I hate to admit it.”

“Right? I won’t tell her you said that. She’ll be insufferable. Pizza?” Barton offers the box. “Nat didn’t say you liked it, necessarily, but everyone likes pizza, right? But if you don’t want any, it’s cool. I’ll bring some home for my dog.”

“You feed your dog pizza?”

“Oh, totally. He loves it. His name is Lucky.”

James takes a piece of pizza. Then another.

**To: Steve**

**How do you deal with Barton?**

**From: Steve**

**Just let him talk. It makes him happy. -SGR**

\---

Clint keeps coming over after that, though he checks in with James first before he does. They get along better than James thought they would, but the carefree archer seems to be just the friend he needs. Clint teaches him some sign language, says that the rest of the team is too busy to learn anything past the basics or what they would need in the field.

“It’s fine, I get it.” He says with a shrug. But James can tell it bothers him. So much so that James reaches out to Steve.

_“He told you it bothers him?”_ Steve asks. James had figured this would be an easier conversation to have over the phone, and he was right. He sighs.

“No. The opposite. He said it’s ‘fine’. Except it clearly wasn’t. And, if I recall correctly, and I’m pretty sure I do, I have experience with little blond people telling me something’s fine when it actually isn’t.”

_“Oh, you do.”_ Steve laughs. _“What should we do? For Clint, I mean.”_

“Make an effort. He’s been coming over and teaching me. And if _I_ can retain it, with my Swiss cheese brain, certainly the rest of you can.”

There’s a pause before Steve answers.

_“You’re right. Hell, maybe Sam and I can work on it together.”_

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, Rogers. And…” James trails off.

_“What?”_ Steve prompts.

“I can help. If you want.” James offers.

_“That would be fantastic.”_

-✪-

Steve grins down at his phone. Bucky texts him almost all the time now, even if it’s sometimes just pictures of cats he finds on the internet or something he saw that day.

“You gonna tell him how you feel?” Sam asks. Steve makes a face.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He admits. Sam raises an eyebrow. “I don’t want to force something on him that he’s not ready for, or mess up his recovery, you know?”

“It’s nice that you’re thinking of him, but sometimes you gotta think about yourself, man.”

They’re on their way back from a mission, something on the other side of the world that Fury called them in for at the last minute. Steve still isn’t quite sure where they’d been, some island in the middle of nowhere that probably didn’t have a name the last time Steve took a geography class but no longer has an alien problem. Hell, he’s not even sure how Fury knew it was there. But they’re headed home now, and all Steve wants to do is get in bed.

“You should invite him over.” Sam says. Steve looks up at him.

“You think?”

“It’ll be a good way to see how you stand with him. And I know you’ve been dying to see him.”

Steve considers it. Sam is right, on both counts. Bucky hasn’t been around since that first time, though he’s been much better about being in touch than he had been for the week or so after that. Steve misses him. Text messages aren’t the same, and honestly, the sporadic phone calls aren’t cutting it, either.

“Yeah. You’re right. Good idea, Sam.”

“I have those more often than you think. You’d know that if you listened to people when they speak, instead of just running off into the sunset doing whatever the hell you want.” Sam is teasing, but there’s a serious note to his words.

“I’m trying to get better at that.” Steve offers a wry smile. Sam snorts.

“Work on it faster.”

-✪-

Bucky Barnes wakes up on a Tuesday almost completely certain of who he is. It’s a good feeling. He had gone to Steve’s a few days ago and they had just talked, about the past and the present. About the things they still wanted to do. Like they were friends, catching up. It was nice. Except… now that Bucky has his memories back, is sure that he’s Bucky, the way he wanted to be, he thinks he wants more from Steve. He isn’t sure how to bring it up, though. He isn’t sure if Steve has moved on. He remembers Peggy Carter, the way Steve talked about her, talked to her. If he’s found someone else like that...

He remembers being with Steve, the way his skin felt under Bucky’s hands, first in their tiny apartment in Brooklyn, then later, in Europe, when they were hiding in tents, protected by the watchful eyes of their friends, their unit. Their team. But just because that’s the way it used to be doesn’t mean that it’s going to be like that now. It wouldn’t be fair of him to expect that of Steve. Hell, for all Bucky knows, Steve is seeing someone. _He probably would’ve mentioned it, though_. Bucky thinks. At least, he’s pretty sure Steve would mention it. He thinks they’re close enough again that that would be something that they talk about. Bucky groans. He hates all this interpersonal bullshit.  He knows, though, that he’s going to have to deal with it if he wants to keep spending time with Steve. Wilson will drag it out of him, he’s sure.

He calls Steve.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve greets, like there isn’t any weight to the conversation. “I was just thinking about you. Wanna get out for a while?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Bucky had been planning on inviting himself over to Steve’s, but this is probably better. It’ll be easier to disappear if it doesn’t go well. “Meet me at the park in…” he pauses to check the time. 2:00. “Half an hour?”

There probably won’t be too many people there, despite the nice weather. It’s a Tuesday, schools are still in session, people work. It shouldn’t be hard to find somewhere that they can talk.

-✪-

Steve can hardly contain his grin. He knows he shouldn’t think of this as a date, that it probably isn’t one. That Bucky might never think of him that way again. But meeting at a park, where Steve had always thought of taking Bucky, especially now that he could? It sounded like a date. Steve wants it to be a date.

He puts on one of the shirts that Sam helped him pick, one that didn’t make him look like a sad middle aged man, to use Natasha’s words. When he looks in the mirror, though, he gets it. Maybe the difference is only that the shirt fits him, but he feels better than he ever did in those button up shirts. Steve glances at the few he has left in the closet, then grabs them all. He throws them in the trash on his way through the kitchen.

-✪-

Bucky wipes his palms on his jeans as Steve joins him in the park. The nerves he’d been working so hard to squash come flooding back, but he manages to grin at Steve when he greets Bucky.

“Wanna walk?”

“Would love to. Where’re we going?” Steve asks. Bucky shrugs.

“Somewhere nice. Private, maybe.” And Bucky can see the change on his face, from something akin to hopefulness to concern, worry. He nudges Steve with his shoulder.

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere, if that’s what you’re gettin’ worked up about.”

“Then what is it?”

“Let’s find someplace nice and I’ll tell you.”

So they wander for a while, mostly in silence. Occasionally, they’ll point things out to each other or say something inconsequential. Bucky wants to take Steve’s hand in his own. He doesn’t. Eventually, they come to a spot that’s near perfect, a copse of trees far enough from the path that no one will bother them. Bucky nudges Steve, then ducks into the shade. Steve follows. At Steve’s suggestion, they sit, together, at the base of the biggest tree.

They sit in silence for a moment. Bucky has a vague idea of what he wants to say, but no idea how to say it. He’s lucky that Steve has always been patient with him in ways that he’s never been patient with anything else.

“I remember,” he starts eventually. Steve looks up from the blade of grass he’d been playing with. He raises his eyebrows, nods for Bucky to continue.

“I remember most of everything, now. Talking it all out last time, it helped.”

“That’s fantastic, Buck. I’m glad I could help.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bucky tries for a laugh, but it sounds forced, even to his ears. Steve frowns.

“What’s the problem, then?” Bucky takes a deep breath.

“I remembered how much I love you.” He admits. He stares at the grass between them, can’t make himself look up, meet Steve’s eyes. But beside him, Steve huffs out a laugh.

“Present tense?” He asks. Bucky looks up at him.

“Present tense.”

“Thank god.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else before he’s leaning over, placing a hand on Bucky’s cheek. But it’s Bucky himself that leans forward, into the last amount of space between them, and presses a kiss to Steve’s lips. It’s not quite how he remembered, but it’s perfect just the same.

 

**EPILOGUE**

Bucky wakes up slowly. He can already tell that Steve isn’t in bed anymore - the other side of the bed is cold, and there’s no resistance when Bucky pulls the covers over his shoulder. There’s also the telling scent of coffee floating in from the kitchen, promising breakfast. He sighs. He knows he needs to get up, that there are things that need to get done.

He and Steve have been running their farm for a few years now. It had been Steve’s idea, for after he retired. And after Sokovia… Bucky shudders. Part of him wishes that he had been there with the others. The other part knows that it wasn’t his place. Tony still hasn’t quite forgiven him, which Bucky understands, as much as he doesn’t like it. The other Avengers are wary of him too. Steve has done his best, Bucky knows, but there’s something about being an ex-brainwashed assassin that sets people off. They still hope that the others will come around, but Steve was happy to retire anyway.

Bucky pulls on one of Steve’s hoodies to fight the early morning chill and makes his way to the kitchen. Sure enough, Steve is standing in front of the stove, pushing eggs around in a pan. There’s toast sitting popped up in the toaster, and a cup of coffee sitting on the island, waiting for Bucky to drink it.

“Morning.” Bucky greets. Steve turns to grin at him.

“Morning, Buck. Eggs?”

“Please.”

They move around the kitchen in tandem, used to the routine. Steve plates the eggs - or whatever else they might be eating - and Bucky get the silverware and the toast and the toppings. No matter what else they have going on, they always try to make time to eat together.

“What’s on the schedule for today?” Bucky asks around a mouthful of toast.

“We gotta fertilize.” Steve answers. Bucky nods. The tomatoes are growing well this year, and the apple trees are healthy. They’ll have to clean out the goat pen, and the barn. The goats have been staying inside because of the weather, but it’s been getting warmer. Late spring is one of Bucky’s favorite things.

-✪-

Steve is grateful for the work that he and Bucky have made for themselves, even more so when the fruits of their labor go to helping other people. They’ve made themselves something of a victory garden, with vegetables and herbs that are easy to grow and put on the table. Sam laughed when Steve told him about it, but said that he’s happy that they feel useful.

“Maybe this’ll keep you dumbasses out of trouble.”

“Trouble find us.” Steve protests. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you say.”

Sam and Natasha still come over sometimes, when they’re back in DC for a while. The farm isn’t too far outside of the city, in the farmland out in Maryland. Neither of them could bring themselves to go back to New York. They visit, sometimes, but things have changed too much for either of them to want to live there. Their city is gone, with the time that they lived in it. They’re happy here, with their goats and their gardens.

-✪-

Bucky heads to the barn while Steve gets started with the fertilizer. They have six now, and the number grows every spring, when some of the nearby farms inevitably have more kids than they can handle. The smaller operations, especially, always have baby animals that they’d rather pawn of on neighbors than anything else. Steve and Bucky take the goats, when they can, and sometimes a few chickens. They’re spoiled for fresh eggs.

During the day, they throw themselves into their work. Planting, maintaining, harvesting, when the time comes. The goats mostly tend to themselves, and the chicken coop only needs attention a few times a week, other than collecting the eggs. All in all, they’re happy. They sell excess crops at the farmer’s market every week, and what doesn’t get sold goes to those in need. They’re happy. They’re living their lives, and they’re doing it together. Bucky doesn’t care what they’re doing, really. He’s just happy to be with Steve.

\---

“Hey, Buck,” Steve starts, when they’re cleaning up after dinner. “You ever think about getting married?” The back of his neck is red. Bucky rolls his eyes. He loves this man so much.

“Only to you, doll. Why? You wanna get hitched?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Let’s get married.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://steve-rogers-trash.tumblr.com)


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